Vigilante
by Crosis Laurekal
Summary: Animals kill without mercy, but also without hate. That was what made him a monster. Rated for violence and death.
1. Chapter 1

**Vigilante**

**Chapter 1**

* * *

The boy stepped out into the intersection, no destination in mind beyond the next step. He concerned himself instead with the events unfolding around him. If there was one thing he loved most about Jump City, it was the nightlife. The arrival of dusk seemed to calm the normally bustling city, easing it into a smoother rhythm. Traffic flowed by at a calmer pace, devoid of the blaring horns and shouts that accompanied the afternoon traffic jams. Instead of a hurried, pressing crowd, the sidewalks were occupied by smaller groups and individuals, moving at their own leisurely paces. A far cry from its daily state, the city and its residents seemed at peace.

The relaxed atmosphere ended as an explosion boomed out in the distance. The boy's gaze shot up in time to see a second blast engulf a traffic light three blocks ahead. The sound of maniacal laughter only confirmed his suspicions. One of Jump's criminals was hard at work.

The citizens around him reacted with surprise and dismay, but not panic. Enduring constant super villain attacks had taught the city's residents that leaving the scene unnoticed was infinitely preferable to fleeing in a screaming mob. Doing so would only distract the villains from their goal and most likely incite their wrath. The deep rumble of an engine began to build as the explosions and cackles drew closer, and the few pedestrians began stepping into alleyways and pressing themselves closer to the buildings, attempting to stay out of sight until the criminal had passed or the Titans arrived. They were unaware of the danger this approaching villain presented. He had no desire to take over the city with an army of robots, or to rob banks using a magic wand. His only goal was causing pain and destruction.

The engine's pitch grew to a throaty roar as a black and red motorcycle skidded around the corner. Giving a triumphant yell, Johnny Rancid gunned the throttle and sped down the street. Hefting a grenade launcher, he began firing wildly at the buildings on either side. Screaming in newfound terror, the bystanders fled in every direction, desperately trying to avoid Rancid's erratic shots. The boy was thrown to the ground as a concussion boomed overhead, and he was blinded as a cloud of dust and rubble crashed down around him. Another explosion to his left sent him rolling into the side of a car, knocking the wind out of his lungs.

He struggled for breath as dust burned his throat. His ears were ringing from the blasts, but he thought he could make out sobbing amongst the continued explosions. Shaking the dust from his blond hair, he struggled to his feet. The street around him was in ruins. Vehicles lay in twisted, burning wrecks, flames spreading as the fuel began to ignite. Rubble littered the sidewalks, blown from the sides of buildings that now sported gaping, jagged holes. The remaining people were huddled behind whatever cover they could find, praying to be overlooked by the madman now making another pass. Johnny cruised to a stop in the road and surveyed his handiwork. His eyes stopped, and his sadistic grin faded into a thoughtful frown. The boy turned his head and felt his heart almost stop.

A man was kneeling with his arms around a small girl, his face streaked with tears. The girl's skin was ashen grey, eyes beginning to glaze as her breathing slowed. Her body was covered in scratches and cuts from flying shrapnel, but the gaping hole in her side showed where the blast had struck. Pieces of bone poked out from the burned tissue, starkly white against the blood dripping from them. Shards of metal glinted around the hole, and a stream of blood was pooling around the man's knees. The child let out a final, weak exhalation, and the man's sobs returned.

Rancid holstered his launcher and gave a half-hearted shrug. "Tough break pal, but you should've known better than to bring your kid out when Johnny's around." Giving a brief wave, he sped off into the night.

The boy felt tears prick his eyes as he watched the man hold his daughter's corpse. He wanted to do something, he had to do something. The wail of sirens split the night, and he knew that the Titans wouldn't be far behind. If they caught Rancid, he knew what would happen: An arrest, a jail sentence, an escape, and then more suffering. He made his decision. He took a single, uncertain step, then another, and then stumbled into an alley and out of sight.

* * *

Well, here's the first chapter of my initial attempt at fanfiction. Never tried anything other than original works, so hopefully I don't shame the source material. I welcome any and all reviews. Like it, hate it, or have advice to improve it? Let me know. If you feel you have to flame, try to express it as constructively as possible.

Many thanks,

Cro


	2. Chapter 2

**Vigilante**

**Chapter 2**

* * *

Holstering his launcher, Johnny Rancid gave a brief wave to his victims and sped off down the street. Making a quick series of turns, he eventually paused at the entrance to an alleyway and cautiously examined the empty street. Satisfied that he was unseen, he killed the engine and walked his bike into the darkness. After a quick check to ensure he was hidden, he settled back to wait.

A chorus of sirens cried out from his left, and Johnny pressed himself further into the alley as police cruisers raced past his hiding spot. He couldn't help but smile to himself. What a joke that the cops were so focused on getting to the crime scene that they drove right past him! He was unable to contain his laughter when the R-Cycle finally passed by. He could only imagine the look on Robin's face when he and his team got a look at all the damage he'd caused.

"Hah! Wish I would've hid a bit closer to the action. Bet the little punk's flipping out right about now." Scowling, he brought his hands up to his face and formed circles around his eyes in an imitation of Robin's mask. "Titans! Split up and track Rancid down! We're not letting him get away with this!" Johnny slammed a fist into his open palm for emphasis before falling into another fit of laughter.

Wiping tears from his eyes, he straightened up and waited for the search to begin. The sirens rose and fell as the majority of police left the scene, and eventually the R-Cycle's fading engine convinced him that the Titans were on the move as well. He waited a few more minutes, occasionally checking the sky in case one of the flying Titans was somewhere overhead. The coast was clear. Time to move.

Spitting into the gutter, he gripped the handlebars of his cycle and pushed it out of the alley.

He knew what they were doing. By now the team had spread out across the city, searching as quickly as possible for some clue as to his whereabouts. They probably thought that if they moved quickly enough, one of them would hear gunfire or the scream of his motorcycle. Hell, Robin was probably barreling down the streets at top speed, trying to follow the trail of damage that would inevitably be left behind. It was a sensible plan; it was how they'd always captured him before. His reckless bravado and lack of subtlety made it a simple task to track him down. At least it would have in the past, but Rancid had learned from his mistakes. Running amok and leaving a trail of breadcrumbs for the Titans to follow might make for an exciting chase, but did it ever get him anywhere? In the end, they were five super-powered teenagers, and he was just one psychopath.

'One genius, good looking psychopath.' He corrected himself as he reached the opposite sidewalk.

His train of thought was interrupted by the clinking of a bottle somewhere behind him. He spun around in shock, expecting to see Robin's foot on a collision course with his face, or maybe Raven popping out of the wall to drop a streetlight on his head. The street around him was as deserted as before, and the alley he had emerged from was filled with the same empty blackness. No, something was different. Squinting, Johnny looked again.

There! Back in the alley, just inside the shadows, were two green pinpoints of light. They seemed to glint as they reflected the feeble glare from the streetlamps that dotted the sidewalk. Johnny stared at the lights, trying to figure out what could be causing them. Were they empty bottles, or shards of broken glass? What about Christmas lights or a soda can?

Johnny scratched his head in confusion. Not one of those made any sense! He had been right there only minutes ago, and there had been nothing in that alley but him and his bike! He was still wrestling with the question when the two lights vanished. His jaw dropped and his confusion gave way to unease as they reappeared, further to the left, and much closer. Whatever those lights were, they were just inside the alley's entrance now.

He stared into the lights, determined not to blink or let them out of his sight, lest they move again. Minutes passed, and the green specks remained motionless and unchanging. Johnny folded his arms and gave an incredulous snort.

'What the hell's wrong with me? I just went on a neighborhood rampage! I got half the city and the Titans tearing up the area to arrest me. So why I am standing here in plain sight watching lights in an alley like a moron?' Shaking his head, he turned back to his bike and continued pushing. As he moved out of sight, the green lights disappeared.

* * *

"Honey, I'm home!" Johnny called as he gave his bike a final push before dropping the kickstand. He surveyed the junkyard around him before adopting an expression of annoyance. "Well that figures! I'm out all day slaving away to blow things up, and what do I come home to? A dump!"

Laughing at his own joke, he began piling bits of garbage and refuse together in a secluded corner of the yard. Lighting the trash-fire, he began rummaging around further for materials to create a foolproof disguise. It was a difficult search, but his persistence was rewarded. Arranging his discoveries into an orderly heap, he began sorting through the abandoned clothes. Finally deciding on a moth-eaten college sweatshirt and a soggy beret, he donned his new outfit and marveled at his own brilliance.

"Oh yea, let's hear it for Johnny Rancid! No jail can hold him, no cop can catch him, and no Titan can stop him!" Waving the beret in the air, he gave a dramatic bow to his audience of rusty cars and broken refrigerators.

"Now if those stupid kids come back, what are they gonna think? Nobody around but a bum trying to keep warm for the night. Bet they don't think ole' Johnny's dumb enough to hide in plain sight, but I'll show them!" Walking back to the fire, he sat down in front of it and warmed his hands. All he had to do now was stay put until morning. It wasn't an ideal way to spend the night, but he knew that you can't have your cake without breaking a few eggs, or something like that. His hands finally warm, he moved his feet closer and lifted his gaze to check the skies for Titans. His entire body froze as he looked over the edge of the fire.

The green lights had returned, but they were larger now, and much closer. He could see the dancing flames reflecting off of them, but they were just out of the fire's light. Johnny stumbled to his feet, noticing that the lights seemed to follow his movements. As he backed away from the fire, they shifted a fraction of an inch, and the shadows around them seemed to move as well. Fear gripped him as he backed away further. Something had followed him here, and those green lights were its eyes. They stared at him without hesitation or fear, and a desperate need to escape their reach filled him.

Johnny reached to his side and whipped out his pistol. He didn't care if he blew his cover; he just wanted those damned eyes away from him! Forgetting to load or even aim the gun, he leveled it towards the eyes and prepared to pull the trigger when a clatter came from behind. His nerves on edge, he forgot about the eyes and turned to see if another threat had emerged.

Rummaging around the trash were several thin, ragged dogs. One seemed to notice his gaze and loped towards him, hunger and desperation evident in its eyes. Johnny gave a weak chuckle at the pitiful creature as it neared him. 'The hell is wrong with me? I saw these mutts on my way in. That must be what those stupid eyes are from, just another starving dog trying to beg for scraps.' He kicked at the dog before it reached him, his boot thudding heavily into the creature's side. The dog gave a low whimper before moving back into the darkness. Satisfied, he turned and walked back to the fire. Another clatter came from behind, and he groaned in irritation as he turned to kick the dog once again. His eyes widened when he saw it.

Standing before him was a golden haired dog with green eyes. It must have darted over to the fire when he had been preoccupied with that stray. This one was not like the other timid mutts. It was massive, almost three feet high at the shoulder, and thick ropes of muscle were bunched taut along its back and flanks. Its ears were laid flat along its head in an obvious show of aggression, and its eyes glowed like emerald flares. Its teeth were bared into a malevolent snarl and the rumble of its breath made him tremble. Johnny could only stare in dread as he realized that it wasn't a dog.

It was a wolf.

* * *

Alright, second chapter up. Tried to build up a good amount of suspense in this chapter before everything gets messy.

Many thanks to Haligh-A-Lie and Somewhere In Time for your reviews. I hope everyone enjoys the chapter!

Cro


	3. Chapter 3

**Vigilante**

**Chapter 3**

* * *

Johnny stumbled back in shock, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he stared at the creature before him. The wolf was as motionless as a statue, almost unmoving but for the eyes that followed his every move. Its muscles seemed to tense, and the four legs braced themselves against the dust of the junkyard. Its entire body now seemed like a coiled spring, only a twitch away from firing itself forward and rending him apart.

Hands trembling in panic, he drew his pistol and held it between him and the animal. The gun shook wildly in his grasp, making it seem less like a weapon and more a shield to ward off his foe. To a human, the sight of the gun would instill a sense of fear or caution. To the wolf, it had a very different effect. Its eyes narrowed into slits, and its muzzle pulled back from its fangs. The rumble of its breath gave way to a deep, echoing growl that chilled Johnny to the bone. It was as if the wolf had spoken to him, its voice as ancient and assured as the world itself.

_I'm going to kill you._

Panic gripped him, and Johnny brought the pistol up in a firing position. He closed his eyes and squeezed the trigger, praying that his hand was steady enough for a hit. The first shot caught the wolf in mid-charge, drilling into its shoulder and emerging in a burst of blood and bone fragments. It stumbled but did not fall. The second struck it in the chest, causing it to fall roughly to the ground. It gave a choking cry, and bloody froth sprayed from its nostrils. The final shot plowed through the beast's skull as it struggled to rise, matting its fur with blood and brain matter. It gave a final, gurgling breath and sank heavily to the ground.

_Click._

Johnny's eyes opened in confusion. The wolf was still there, its eyes set, teeth bared. He had only imagined its death.

He pulled the trigger again.

_Click._

He stared at the empty gun in disbelief. He began pulling the trigger wildly, hoping for a bullet to miraculously appear in the chamber as each of the dry clicks seemed to sound out mockingly. His gaze shot back and forth between the wolf and the gun, his mind blanking out as waves of hysteria threatened to overwhelm him.

The wolf took a step forward.

Conscious thought cut through the panic that filled his mind. Resisting the fear that pressed down on him, Johnny began digging through his pockets. His fingers closed on a magazine, and he frantically pulled it free. His hands were shaking too badly to maintain a grip, and the clip fell from his hands. He watched with horror as it bounced away, clattering to a stop near the feet of his enemy.

The wolf took another step forward.

Johnny felt his stomach turn to ice at the wolf's actions. Why was it moving so slowly? What was it waiting for? At any rate, he knew he was running out of time. Searching again, he obtained another magazine. Gripping it like a lifeline, he quickly began loading the gun, trying to keep the wolf in his field of vision in case it attacked. Relief filled him as the clip slid into place, and he hurriedly racked the slide. The wolf's head snapped up and its ears lifted at the sound, and Johnny thought he saw recognition flash through its eyes. With his fear diminished, he steadied his aim between those green eyes and fired.

The gunshot split the calm atmosphere of the junkyard as the bullet carved through the spot the wolf had occupied moments before. The animal had dropped to its belly as he had prepared to fire, flattening itself so that the bullet flew harmlessly overhead. As it stood, Johnny prepared to fire again, amazed at the way those eyes seemed to follow the gun's path. Like it was watching his movements, like it was planning the next move, like it could think like a human.

"You damned furry bastard," he yelled out in fright. "Are you playing with me, is that what this is?! Trying to mess with my damn head? Why don't you stop screwing around and get on with it!" The wolf's ears slid flat against its skull, and the animal's body again braced for movement. Its eyes seemed to bore into him, and he somehow knew that his challenged had been accepted. Johnny raised the gun and fired again. But even as his finger drew back on the trigger, the wolf had dodged again, throwing itself to the side and away from the bullet's path. It did not halt its progress, but planted its forepaws into the soil before lunging forward, its mouth stretching open to reveal glistening fangs pointed straight at his throat. It happened too fast for Johnny to react; he could only bring his arm up in a poor attempt at defense and watch the jaws loom closer, so large they seemed to scrape against the earth and sky. Then it reached him, and as he felt the hot breath against his wrist, he realized what it was about to do.

The wolf's jaws snapped shut on his wrist, and the momentum of its charge nearly sent him tumbling back into the fire. Its teeth dug into his skin, and Johnny screamed as a spout of blood spewed out of the broken flesh, popping and sizzling as it fell into the flames. The wolf gave a fearsome tug as it tried to drag him to the ground, and Johnny fought to remain standing, even as his arm felt like it was about to be wrenched from the socket. He tried to pull his arm free of the bloody, gaping mouth, and the wolf rewarded him with a violent shake of its head that sent the nerves in his arm on fire with greater pain.

Johnny cried out in pain as the teeth sank deeper into his wrist. He brought up his other arm to try and pull the wolf off when he noticed the pistol still clamped in his hand. Trying to block out the pain, he pulled back with all his strength and succeeded in bringing the animal's head closer to him. Lifting his arm, he shoved the gun forward, jamming the barrel into the side of the wolf's head. Green eyes shot to the side as the gun drew its focus, and Johnny knew that the beast understood that its death was moments away.

* * *

And things start getting messy. I'd originally intended for the fight scene to take up only one chapter, but finally decided to split it into two. Hopefully that won't disrupt the pacing too badly. Enjoy!

Cro


	4. Chapter 4

**Vigilante**

**Chapter 4**

* * *

Keeping the gun pressed against the wolf's muzzle, Johnny's finger tightened on the trigger, but the wolf flung its body to the side, still clenching his wrist, and Johnny was thrown heavily to the earth. The gun's blast was muffled as it fired, a plume of dirt shooting up harmlessly between the wolf's legs. Johnny tried to point the gun upwards and fire into its gut, but the jaws pulled again at his arm, and the gun fell from his grasp as he was drug along the ground. The wolf's paws scrambled for a grip on the hard ground, and one of its hind legs kicked the gun backwards and out of sight. Desperate, Johnny curled his hand into a fist and struck upwards, catching it under the jaws. The wolf gave a strangled yelp and reared back, giving his wrist a final, painful tug as it released its hold.

Johnny stumbled to his feet, his confidence returning at the sound of the wolf's cry. Dropping to one knee, he reached down and pulled a large hunting knife from his boot. He brought it up to the light, and the edge gleamed wickedly in the firelight. The wolf paused, as if sensing the change in him. It seemed wary now, cautious of the danger it faced. Johnny grinned.

"What's wrong Lobo," he asked as he tossed the knife from one hand to the other. "Lose your nerve after one punch?" The wolf snarled in response, its body still poised for a leap. Its eyes locked with his, and something seemed to pass between them, a sense of finality that sent tremors of doubt through him. The wolf was not backing down; his only way out of here was by killing it.

The wolf stalked forward, its moves slow and deliberate as it circled around him. It feinted in and out, testing the reach of his arm. Johnny matched its pace, keeping his eyes and weapon trained on the beast as it looked for an opening. He felt like it was trying to back him into a corner, but he didn't dare look away to check his surroundings.

The wolf darted left, an obvious feint that Johnny recognized as false. He turned to keep the animal in his vision, backing away cautiously. His foot struck a solid obstacle, and in surprise he turned to see if he had been trapped. As his head moved, he caught a glimpse of movement from the corner of his eye, and his gaze turned back to see the blond wolf hurtling towards him, jaws wide and gaping.

Johnny threw himself forward, roughly hitting the ground and narrowly missing the wolf's clawed forepaws. He felt his breath squeezed out of him as his stomach scraped across the rocky ground, and he heard the wolf grunt as it landed behind him. Clambering to his feet, he twisted his body to face the animal before it could leap onto his back.

It lunged forward, and Johnny stabbed at it with his knife. The wolf stopped in mid-charge and whirled to the side, gravel spraying up beneath its feet, and his blade struck empty air. As Johnny regained his balance, the wolf dodged away, darting to his unprotected side and leaping again.

The wolf plowed into him, and Johnny saw an image of a golden battering ram, green eyes blazing as it barreled forward. As the distance between them closed, he desperately swung the knife in a backhanded swing. The blade struck true, and a dripping red line bloomed across the wolf's stomach. If it made a sound of pain, he never heard it. He was knocked back like a rag doll, his body crashing into the ground with enough force to bruise his entire back and leave him gasping for breath. The knife dropped from his hand, red and shining in the firelight. He was stunned by the impact, his nostrils filled with the sickly-sweet odor of his own blood and the animal's saliva. He was all but pinned to the ground, and he quickly made to grab the knife for another swing.

His hand reached blindly for his weapon before it was checked, and as a brutal weight crushed down on his uninjured wrist, Johnny blinked to clear his head of the painful haze. What he saw destroyed any further hopes of killing the monster.

The wolf's forepaw was pressed firmly against his wrist, holding it to the ground. A second paw rushed forward, kicking the knife away into the darkness. As the paw lifted from his wrist, Johnny backpedaled away, his thoughts scattered and disbelieving as the wolf's maw yawned open again. He had been disarmed for the second time, and the animal had done it deliberately.

The fangs raced forward, gouging ragged furrows into his shoulder. The jaws clamped down tight, tearing muscle and sinew as blood burst through the torn skin. Johnny wailed thinly as the wolf wrenched its head back, ripping a bloody gobbet of flesh out of his shoulder. With a twist of the neck, it flung the gruesome chunk to the side before lifting its gory snout and letting out an echoing howl.

The sound broke through Johnny's pain-wracked stupor, and he forced himself to turn and run towards the street, to civilization, to the authorities if necessary. Anywhere that was safe from the hellhound behind him.

He had only taken five steps when a shooting pain exploded from his ankle. The bones broke with a dry snap, and he was pulled to the ground as the wolf's teeth chewed deeper into his leg. Even as it dragged him back towards the fire, the jaws were working, fangs about to meet through the tattered remnants of his ankle. Through the fog of pain and terror, Johnny realized that unless he did something, he was about to lose his foot.

Drawing back on his free leg, he began kicking savagely, desperately at the thing's bloodstained mouth. His boot connected several times, but the animal hung on stubbornly. Bracing with his arms, Johnny put all the force his wounded body could muster into a final kick, hitting soundly against the wolf's neck as he pulled back with his other leg.

The wolf let out a yip of shock at the impact, and with the release of its hold, fell backward and away from him. Flipping his body over, Johnny immediately began to crawl on his hands and knees, fighting to stay alert even as black spots danced across his vision and his body grew numb with the shock of lost blood. He drug himself forward, hoping to get to his bike, knowing that if he could only get far enough away, the wolf could never catch up.

As his motorcycle grew closer, a hysteric wave of euphoria began to settle over him. What if the wolf had given up? What if that last kick had convinced it he was too much trouble to finish off? He might already be safe! He suddenly had the urge to look behind him, if only to make sure that the damned thing wasn't snapping at his heels.

He forced his eyes to remain forward. He knew it was still there; maybe right behind him, or to the side, staying just out of the range of his vision. It was closing in on him, as quiet and tenacious as the angel of death. He inhaled deeply, holding the air in his lungs until they burned. As his breath hissed out through his teeth, he wondered what it would feel like, how hard it was going to hit him. Would he feel the claws of its legs first, or teeth cutting into the back of his neck?

He whimpered in fear and crawled faster, his bike almost in reach. As he began pulling himself up and into the seat, he imagined it was only inches behind him, muscles tensed and ready to leap, eyes shining like verdant hellfire. He strained and fought his way onto the seat, wounds screaming as he steadied himself on the cycle. The engine coughed and sputtered before letting out a deep mechanical roar. As the lights flashed into life, he reached down and lifted his grenade launcher from its holster.

Minutes passed, the silence broken only by the muttering of the engine. Johnny sat slumped over the handlebars, struggling for breath as he clutched the launcher in his uninjured hand. He waited, sure that this was only a temporary reprieve, that any moment he would feel hot breath on his neck and a carrion stench in his nose, but the wolf did not reappear.

Realizing that his wounds were too severe to waste more time, Johnny gunned the engine and began driving out of the junkyard, trying to brace his wounded limbs to keep the bike's movements from damaging them further.

Johnny laughed in relief as he pulled out onto the street. Now he only had to find the titans or the police, then he'd be off to a nice, wolf-free jail. He grinned in anticipation, so engrossed in his thoughts that he almost missed the flash of green to his right as he passed under a streetlamp.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and his head whipped to the side, his mouth opening to scream. The blond wolf which had been running alongside the motorcycle dashed ahead, looming huge and terrible in the headlight. His arm moved upwards, trying in vain to aim the launcher. Pivoting on its legs, the wolf turned and leapt forward, slamming its body into Johnny. The blow caused the motorcycle to veer wildly towards the curb as the wolf was thrown in the other direction, landing hard on its side and rolling to a stop.

When the wolf had struck him, Johnny's arm and the grenade launcher were crushed into his side by the impact, and two of his ribs broke like rotted timber. As the pain washed over him, his hand tightened reflexively, firing the launcher. The grenade hit the ground to the left of the cycle's front tire, and the explosion crumpled the bike and sent it flipping into the air. The blast blew Johnny out of the wreck like a shattered, bleeding pinwheel, and his body was sent skidding across the road underneath the burning vehicle. As flaming metal and shrapnel flew out from the blast's epicenter, shards punctured the bike's gas tank, and soon a second explosion rang out in the night. What remained of the ruined motorcycle slid to a halt in the road's intersection, several feet from where Johnny lay. His eyes were blank and unseeing as his life's blood began to puddle beneath him.

Further back, the wolf lay on its belly against the asphalt. Its body was battered and weary, but it would survive. It turned its head towards the burning wreckage, eyes glowing in the firelight. It lowered its head and retched harshly, vomiting blood and fragments of bone and tissue that had once been part of a living man. In an instant, the panting animal was gone, replaced by a small, blond boy. He lay shivering on the ground, naked but for a small silver ring on either hand. He lifted his head to the empty sky, unwilling to look at the destruction he had caused. Behind him, the starving dogs crept out of the junkyard and onto the street. Paying no heed to the boy, they moved forward hungrily towards the unmoving body further on.

As the dogs moved closer, the boy crawled into a darkened alley. Curling up against a wall, his breath hitched, then turned into wracking sobs, and in the cold night, no one heard him weep.

* * *

And the fight is finally concluded. Sincerest apologies for the ridiculous delay between these last two chapters, was quite difficult determining how to end the scene.

One chapter to go, thanks to all who've stuck with it so far!

Cro


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